I Stopped Caring A Long Time Ago
by Artemis D
Summary: A friend of Ducky's, a murder suspect, and a potential love interest... What do these labels have in common? Why, they're the same person. Sorry really bad summary.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Charlie and her family do belong to me though..._

The glass door slid open filling the dark silent room with an abundance of sound. With a soft click the door was shut silencing the noise and cutting it off from the commotion going on in the outside world. The sound of shuffling feet echoed throughout the dark room. After a moment a dim light filled the first half of the room. With the light giving off shadows and artificial glows, the pale brown curtain that concealed the rest of the room was pushed back softly as the person who had entered the area silently stepped forward. Looking around the room, the intruder's eyes took in its contents and occupant. A lone green plaid chair sat in the corner untouched and unwanted. Next to it stood a nightstand that should have had flowers or balloons on it but didn't. Across on the other side of the room the person studied the body in the bed. They watched silently hoping for any sign of life or recognition. When no movement was made the intruder walked to the foot of the bed and retrieved a white clipboard before walking to the front to turn on the over head light so that they would be able to view the person lying bellow them better. Once the light was bright enough to be able to see clearly the person who had entered the room was able to see the woman who was silently lying in the bed before her. "Miss Bronbrug, my name is Sharron. I'm going to be your nurse for the day, ok?" Sharron waited for the beautifully aged woman in the bed before her to say something or at least open her eyes. Sighing, Sharron pushed her red hair out of her brown eyes and began to check the machines that were hooked into Miss Bronbrug's body. Once everything was checked over Sharron walked back over to the door and left after turning off the unneeded illumination. The patient's stats were the same. They never seemed to take a turn for better or for worse and that mere fact made everyone taking care of her very nervous.

Miss Bronburg had admitted herself to the hospital three months ago and within the first two months she had lost 50 pounds and began to slip in and out of consciousness. No one really knew why the medication wasn't working and no one really knew why the woman refused to go through with the surgery that the doctor had proposed to her. Sharron shook her head as she walked away from the room. Turning the corner she bumped into someone that she didn't realize was there. Looking up, her big brown eye grew in size. Before her stood one of the head Doctors of the hospital, "Oh I'm so sorry sir! I…I wasn't watching where I was going." She stuttered as her cheeks became a soft cherry red. The older gentleman laughed softly while turning Sharron around and walking her back toward Miss Bronbrug's room. "It's quite alright Nurse Wilson; you in fact were the very person I was looking for." Sharron looked up at the older man and gave him a quizzical look. She studied his face and noticed the dark circles around his steel gray eyes and the stress marks that ran across his forehead. "Why would you be looking for me?" She asked softly while reentering the room she had just been in. Sighing, the Doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked around the room.

Doctor Mitch Grather has been a doctor for twenty years. His salt and pepper hair gave away his secret of being a constant worrier and the wrinkles on his face made him look much older then he really was. "Have you ever noticed, Nurse Wilson that not a single soul has ever come to visit Miss Bronbrug?" He asked softly, his voice full of sorrow and regret. He didn't like that fact that the young woman in the room was dying all alone. Sharron nodded her head and looked down at the white tiled floor. "It is a bit strange" she whispered. Shaking his head, Dr. Grather gave one last look in Miss Bronbrug's direction and walked out of the sorrowfully quiet room.

_Please Review_

_A._


	2. Home Again

_Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Charlie and her family are mine though..._

_I never asked for much from my family just love and support. But I never did seem to get much of it. My father was always away on business trips or so he called them and my mom never paid much time to me. She always seemed too engrossed in her gossip and television shows. That's why it didn't surprise me when neither of them took notice of me getting weaker by the day._

Three Years earlier…

"Charlie! Oh My God! Look at you!! You've grown up so much!" "Hi, Grandma," I said quietly was she pulled me in for a firm hug in the middle of the airport. It had been five years since I had been in D.C. and as much as I wished I was still across the ocean living in Paris, France, I couldn't help but feel at home. "I missed you so much." I whispered into her ear while pulled my grandmother closer. It didn't surprise me that she was the only one to come and pick me up at the airport. My father had never been much of a father. He was always off playing hero for the government. He's been a psychiatric evaluator of the various government programs since well since before I was born. His job has always been number one in his life. The only reason why he married my mother was because she was pregnant with my older brother, Bobbie. No one likes to admit that that's the truth but I know it is. That's why Bobbie's living in Chicago with his wife Miranda. I like her; she's always been the only other person besides my brother and grandmother that understood me. So seeing as they're in Chicago they obviously couldn't be here to come see me but where's my mother ask you. That's all ways the question when it comes to her. My mother's never been a family person. She never wanted to get married but when she got pregnant and my father promised to take care of her and the baby she couldn't pass up the chance for a virtually free home. My parents never meant to have another child so you can say that I'm just as big of an 'oops' like Bobbie is. But that doesn't really explain where she is does it? Well seeing as it's around five in the afternoon she's most likely at the casino by the Virginia state broader which means that she won't be home tonight.

My grandmother pulled away from my embrace causing me to lose my train of thought. I watched as she studied me, taking in everything about me that's changed. I couldn't help but study her as well. The salt and pepper hair that I remember her having was now completely white. Her skin had numerous wrinkles many of them laugh line and she had put of weight. She defiantly had the Italian grandma look going for her. The only thing that hadn't changed about my grandmother was the sharp look in her blue eyes. Nothing every got past her eyes and for a moment I worried that she would be able to figure out the real reason why I came back to the states. After a moment I really did think she had figured it out but luckily my grandmother just gave me her famous smile and kissed me on both cheeks. "Come now let's get you home and so that I can start putting meat back on those bones of yours." She said cheerfully while taking my arm so that not only could she lean on me for support but also so that she could lead me to her car that was waiting for us out in the 'drop off and pick up' parking lot just off of the baggage claim area of the airport.

_My grandmother had always been my mother figure. As a child she and my grandfather raised me, clothed me, housed me everything a mother and father should do for their child they did for me. So when she said she was going to try to put meat on my bones I knew that I'd be getting sick later tonight. It's not that I don't want to eat, I do…I just can't._

"Now, eat up!" my grandmother demanded as she placed a plate of food in front of me. An amused smile crossed my face as she turned back to the oven to make herself a plate as well. While her back was turned to me the smile fell as I picked up my fork. Biting me lip, I pushed the food around until I was sure that my stomach would be able to handle it for the time being. Luckily I began to eat before my grandmother sat down across from me saving myself from the question of whether or not I was feeling well. I could feel her watching me as we ate in silence. It made me wonder whether or not she could see past my calm flaccid and tell that my stomach was beginning to churn unhappily.

One I was done with my plate of food I looked up to my grandmother and gave her a warm smile. The smile she returned to me made my heart clench and I almost told her why I came back…almost. "You really have changed," she commented in a soft voice while turning her eyes back to her plate to see what was left. I heard her scoff loudly as I got up to take my plate to the sink to wash it. "Figures it'd be the vegetables." My shoulders shook silently as I tried to keep my laughter in. Once I had calmed down some I turned to her while drying my plate and said, "I haven't changed that much." A small giggled passed my lips as I spoke. My grandmother had never been one for eating healthy. I supposed that would explain why I looked that way I did when I was younger. Not that I wasn't happy with how I looked but in my line of work one had to been in the best shape that they could be in.

She scoffed again only louder this time before coming up to the sink so that I could take her plate and wash it. "You have too. You've changed your hair, you clothes, and you've even lost weight, which isn't bad but still…" She paused as she looked me up and down, "Plus you've gotten taller." I could hear the distress in her voice and couldn't help but laugh whole heartedly. I shook my head and walked over to her leaving the plates on the counter. Once I made it over to her, I pulled my grandmother into a hug. Pushing her away slightly, I held her at arm's length and gave her a once over. After a moment of silence I gave her a toothy smile and stated seriously, "I'm not taller, you're just shorter." I laughed again as she smacked my shoulder playfully. Once my laughter died down to a snicker she gave me one of her exasperated looks. "You're right," she said, "You haven't changed one bit. You're still as cheeky as you were five years ago."

Just as I was about to make up a comeback for what my grandmother had said the door bell began to ring. "Oh what now?" she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice as she waddled off to the door. "Elenore Bronburg, where is the darlin' granddaughter of yours?!" A smile spread across my face as I rushed out of the kitchen and to the front door, "Aunt Gracie!" I exclaimed as I pushed past my grandmother and into the arms of one of the other influential woman in my life. Gracie Shea had been my grandmother's neighbor since I was five. I'd been told that from the moment I had met Gracie she had become my mother. She filled the one of the many pieces that had been missing in my young life. Gracie wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me into a tight hug. "Oh you sweet little thang, how I've miss ya so much!" She said while pulling me closer. The smile on my face only grew larger as I heard her thick southern accent. Even after forty years of living in D.C. her accent was still as rich as I remembered it. "Five years, five years ya've been away," Gracie pushed me away from her as she spoke. Looking up at her aged face I could see the tears brimming along the rims of her honey brown eyes. Pulling her back into a hug, I whispered into her ear, "I'm sorry, Gracie." She pushed me away again and held my face in between her tan hands. Gracie's eyes searched mine, she knew as any mother would, that when I said I was sorry that I was saying it for more the one reason. After what felt like an eternity the corners of her thin lips began to turn upward into a small smile. "There's nathin' to be sorry about darlin'. Ya'll are home now and that's all the matters." Right after Gracie had spoken it was my turn to have tears brimming in my eyes. Gracie didn't know the affect her words had on me. She didn't know that what she had said had made my heart skip a beat and my stomach clench in sorrow. "Now, now darlin' there ain't no reason to cry." A slight chuckle bubbled up out of my throat as Gracie's face turned red from panic. Raising my hand to her honey brown cheek I pulled her down to my level and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. "You never have been one to be able to handle tears." Gracie's expression turned into a fast growing smile as she heard my playful tone. "Still the same Charlie I know," she said while shaking her head in the same playfully manner that I had spoken. "Gracie, why don't you come in for awhile? You can help me drill Charlie here on what she's been doing for the past five years," my grandmother suggested as she pulled Gracie into the house before she was able to give her an answer.

As Elenore and Gracie moved back into the kitchen I hung back to close the door and collect my thoughts. 'You have to be careful now. Anything you say could give you away,' I thought to myself. "Anya! What are doing in there?" I heard Gracie call from within the kitchen. "Just…Just checking to make sure that the door is locked." I stuttered. "Well hurry it be doll face we got some question to ask you." Taking a deep breath I rested my head against the door. 'Why me?' When I knew I couldn't hold that breath in any longer I exhaled slowly but not before I pulled my head forward and smack the back of it with the help of the already beat up door.

_Gracie Shea… there are many words that I could use to describe such a wonderful woman. I had the opportunity of meeting her for the first time at a neighborhood get together during the middle of summer when I was a mere five years old. I knew that moment that I laid eyes on her that she was to be the very woman who would be the mother that I would need. In those brief seconds a part of my empty heart of filled and I knew that all I need to find was a father… I am not sure if I was just picky of whom I wanted to be my 'father' but at that moment I still had not found the man to be my father._

_Please Review,_

_A.  
_


	3. Trips and Slips

_**Hi Everyone. I'm sorry that it's taken me to long to post this next chapter. I had meant to post sooner but finals go in the way along with a few projects. I'd like to take the time to ask you to please, PRETTY PLEASE review the story and tell me what you think. I'd like to get feed back on how the story is going. I know that it's moving a little slow right now but it will pick up I promise. I'd also like it, if you do review the story, if you could tell me if there are anythings that I could work on and if you could correct me if I get a detail about a main NCIS character wrong. This is my first fanfic so please do forgive me. Okay, I'll stop rambling now. ENJOY!**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS._

We sat in silence for a good five minutes before anymore said anything. I watched as Gracie and my grandmother shared a skeptical glance with each other before turning their gazes back to me. "So…" Gracie said breaking the ever increasing tension that had been filling the room. "How have you been?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat while unconsciously raising my right hand to massage the area around my heart. Luckily I was able to stop myself and lowered my hand before it could reach my chest. Placing it back onto the table, I focused on how my peach skin looked against to the dark stain of the kitchen tabletop rather than answering Gracie's question. My fingers twitched as I tried to comprehend the color difference.

"I've been good." I said swallowing hard when I detected the slight tremor in my voice. "How have you been?" It was now Gracie's turn to shift in her seat and place both of her hands on to the table. She folded them neatly so that she appeared to be sitting in a relaxed position by my trained eyes could see the pull of her tense shoulder muscles. "We've been good, sug. But…you can't scoot around the question." My eye brows knit together revealing the wrinkles that would someday soon cover my forehead.

My grandmother noticed my expression and regarded how my posture had quickly snapped to attention. Before I could try and deflect the course in which the conversation was going she stated something that I had hoped I would never have to hear, "We heard what happened in Paris, Charlie."

Even though I knew what Eleanor was talking about, I still couldn't stop the question from tumbling out of my mouth, "Wha…What?"

"They called us from the hospital, Charlie. We know about the explosion." I shuddered at the knowledge that everything I wanted to keep secret was now far more open then I wanted. "Charlie, you need to tell us what happened. We need to know how we can help you." Eleanor reached across the table and took my hand into hers and gave it a tight squeeze that caused me to look at her. My grandmother silently confirmed that I had no way of getting out of the discussion.

Snatching my hand away from my grandmother's hold, I rang both hands nervously before shaking my head. "I…I can't" I stuttered out. Pushing myself out of my chair, I walked to the sink in order to get something to wash away the foul taste that had suddenly come from the back of my throat. The tight restriction in my chest began to apply pressure to my lungs. I could feel my heart fighting to find a steady pace, skipping beats as though it were dancing and before I could reach the sink my legs collapsed out from underneath me. As I fell to the ground with darkness over taking my senses, I could faintly hear the calls of surprise and desperation coming from Gracie and Eleanor but their voices were not the only ones I heard.

"Anya! Anya, run! Please Anya, I'm begging you, please run!"

_I always hated passing out. I viewed it as a sign of weakness. But I suppose with the predicament that I was in, my feeling about this subject really didn't matter. Blacking out had become a normal occurrence by that time in my life._

"Charlie? Oh thank God, Charlie, sweetheart, what happened?" The voice I heard as I came to was muffled by a loud ringing in my ears that could only be the aftermath of the crack to my head that I was sure I had taken once I hit the floor. "Eleanor, my dear, if you would," this voice I didn't recognize. I could tell that they were a male and he most definitely had an accent, English maybe.

A groan slipped from between my lips as I began to not only regain full conciseness but also feeling in my body. The ringing in my ears was replaced by a sharp pain toward the base of my skull, along with the dull pounding that I always experience when coming to after an episode. Once the pounding dissipated, I tried to force my body into a sitting position.

"Now, now, my dear, I do not believe sitting up would be wise after the fall that you took." Gentle hands pushed my shoulders back toward the bed I was laying in. "A bed?" The question sounded strained and my voice sounded far too weak for my liking. Not to mention that my vocal cords felt unbelievably raw. "Yes, you were surprisingly easy to move from one room to the next." I could hear the speculation in his voice.

Once my head was resting against the pillow behind me, the man pulled my eyelids back and shined a bright light into each one. Out of reflex, my own hand swat at the hand with the light. After I was sure that the flashlight would no longer be stinging my pupils, I began to blink away the spots that you usually get from the flash of a camera.

With my vision cleared, I allowed my eyes to take in my surroundings. It was surprising just how far Eleanor and Gracie had gotten me. Somehow they had actually managed to move me from the kitchen to the spare bedroom a few rooms over. I smiled slightly forgetting about my curtain predicament while I surveyed the contents and appearance of the room. It was still the same pale cream color that it had been before I left five years ago and the small figurines that had been on the dresser for the longest time were still sitting in their rightful place in all their glass clown glory. I had almost forgotten about the unnamed man that was in the room with me and it wasn't until I noticed movement within my peripheral vision that I turned my attention towards him.

It took my eyes a second or two to refocus before I could see him clearly. He was surprisingly shorter then I would have imagined. He was quiet possibly as tall as I, maybe slightly taller by half an inch at best. His hair reminded me of my grandfather and how his used to part it making him look like he just came out of the early 1940s. It didn't take me long to note the man's weathered face and cheerfully eyes, though I dare say that I might have seen a bit of remorse flash within them at the time but I can't truthfully say. Once I was done observing his facial features which gave me the impression that he was most certainly a man that I should get to know, I took in the rest of his appearance. He was wearing a nicely cut suit, gray I believe with a navy blue button up shirt underneath. My chapped lips curved into a soft smile when I noticed that he was wearing a bow tie as well. Overall, my brief inspection of him only took my half a minute but within that half minute I knew that whoever this man was, he was a good man.

It was within that last half of the minute that he noticed my stare and came over to me. With a pleasant smile he reached over the bed and helped me sit up before saying anything. "You gave everyone a bit of a scare my dear, taking a drive like that. I'm certainly surprised that you don't have a concussion with how hard you hit the tiles" Scottish, I corrected myself after hearing the man's voice clearly for the first time. I groaned as my body shifted upward. I felt a light spinning sensation in my head and shook it trying to rid myself of the feeling. I deeply regretted it when a sharp pain shot throughout the entire upper half of my body extracting another groan from my throat. The man chuckled as he placed a caring hand on my shoulder in order to steady my swaying form. "Now that wasn't very wise of you." "Don't remind me," my voice sounded foreign to my ears; it was low and raspy almost as if I had been screaming at the top of my lungs. "Here drink this," a glass of water was placed into my empty hands by the kind stranger, "It will help soothe that throat of yours."

I nodded my head and took a sip, "Thank you,…" I gave the man with a quizzical look when I realized I still didn't know his name. "Dr. Donald Mallard but please feel free to call me Ducky mostly everyone does." One of my eyebrows rose at Dr. Mallard nickname, "Ducky?" I questioned almost testing the name. "Yes ,well it's a bit of a long story but it all began when…" "Charlie!!" Ducky was cut short by Gracie as she ran into the room and threw her arms around me. I gave him an apologetic smile as I pat her on the back. I had never been good with emotional moments. I was what you would call emotionally retarded at least that's what I called myself.

"Gracie, darling, please you'll suffocate the poor girl if you keep it up." Ducky pried Gracie off of me and moved her a few strides away from me. "Darling?" I asked looking between Gracie and the good doctor. I studied both of them. Their posture, the space between them, the flush of their cheeks and such all seemed to scream couple at me. Again my eyebrow rose as I digested the visible information, "Exactly how much have I missed in the last five years?" The humor was evident in my voice but it died quickly. I had only been given the famous Shea glare twice in my life before that very moment. The first when I seven and 'accidently' figure painted her kitchen walls with the paint I had gotten for my birthday (which indecently were all neon like colors) and the second the day I told her I was going to join the ranks (which was because I didn't let her have a say in the matter). If I had thought my throat was dry before I was certainly mistaken. "I should be asking you the very same think, Anya Charlotte Bronburg."

Once again I found myself sitting at the kitchen table but this time I had three pairs of eyes on me and two of them did not hold any welcoming emotions. I felt as if I was ten all over again and waiting to be scolded for shaving my brother's eyebrows off while he slept. My gaze drifted from face to face trying to find the one person that I wouldn't feel threatened by. It stopped on Ducky, which didn't surprise me. He was the only one that wasn't glaring at me. Instead he was looking at me with an understanding expression across his features. "Well?" My grandmother snapped. The sudden disturbance in the room made me jump in my chair. I had not been expecting her to sound so… cold. My focus fell from Ducky's face to my fisted hands that were lying in my lap. I stayed silent unsure of what I should say or how I should say it. I didn't want them to find out like this. I didn't want them to know period. "Anya, I am not going to play games with you. Now you will either tell us what it is that is going on or you can bet your ass that you won't have a place to stay tonight."

My jaw clenched. So many emotions were running through my blood stream making my heart pump at a dangerous rate. The strongest emotion that I felt was betrayal, a dangerous feeling for someone with my temper to feel. With my jaw already clenched that only way that I could keep myself for lashing out at my grandmother was to tighten the pressure of my fisted hands and allow my nails to cut into my palms. It wasn't my grandmother that took the opportunity of my silence it cut another wound into my heart but Gracie. "I never thought you could ever sink this low, Charlotte. To use prescription drugs like the way you are just isn't you. I mean of all the thinking you can get addicted to, you had to get addicted to pain killers." My head snapped up and I glared at Gracie. "I am NOT addicted to pain killers," I hissed out in an equally cut throat tone, a bad calculation on my part seeing as how as soon as the words fell from my lips Gracie had jumped out of her chair and slammed her hands on the table. "How DARE you LIE to ME!" She screamed, I could only vaguely hear the clattering of her chair as it tumbled to the floor. "How DARE you sit here and TELL me that you aren't ADDICTED to these pain killers! No one, NO ONE is their right MINDS would every take the dosage that you're taking!"

_I couldn't stop myself, I should have. I should have stayed seated across from Gracie and Eleanor but I just… I just couldn't. It's one thing for you someone to call a lair but to call you a lair about drug use when you are completely innocent, simply made my already stressed nerves snap. _

"Don't YOU DARE accuse ME of being a DRUG ADDICT! If you want to yell at someone for abusing PRESCRIPTION DRUGS go yell at your fucking DAUGHTER!" I couldn't stay in the kitchen any longer, I couldn't look at their faces and know that they thought so little of me. I stood up with my fists shaking at my sides. I could feel my nails drawing blood but the sharp pain kept me from exploding into a fit of rage. "You're NO BETTER than my PARENTS!" My frosted words brought grandmother into the agreement. "Anya calm down." "NO, NO I will NOT calm down! If you think I'm such a FUCK UP, I'll just leave!"

I still remember that words that Gracie and my grandmother yelled to me as I walked out of the kitchen and grabbed my bag from the front room. I remember hearing Ducky, who had been completely forgotten about during the argument, try to calm the two older women down. I remember thinking about how they were treating me like a child when I was most certainly an adult and how they knew nothing and had no right to make such assumptions. None of that matter though because as my grandmother ordered me to come back into the kitchen, I slammed the front door shut and began my long trek to the nearest motel which sadly was five miles away and the sun was setting fast.

_Please Review and Happy Readings,_

_A. D.  
_


	4. From bad to worse

**Hello once again! I am so very very sorry that it took so long to post this next chapter and I'm not quite sure how it has turned out. I would really like to if I could get some feed back on the story. It would totally help with trying to figure out were to go with it. I can tell you that the NCIS team will be making an appearance in the next chapter the so on. Also I might have drifted to a different writing style. So, yeah. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.  
**

It took me longer than I expected to get to the hotel. Its run down exterior didn't leave much hope that the inside would prove to be any better and the glaring neon lights only reminded me that this neighborhood only five miles away from my grandmother's was in the shit hole. Before walking into the lobby I glanced up at the red neon sign that read 'vacancy'. Biting my lip, I turned back to the task at hand and pulled open the hotel's so called lobby area. Even as a child I never understood why they called it a hotel; to me it was the room of a motel. You know a coffee area that they called a lobby but it's really just the office and you had to go back outside to get to your room. I guess hotel just made it sound more pleasant. You know word association?

Anyway I'm babbling. Stale air hit me as I walked through the door. The florescent lighting was obnoxiously dim and kept flickering on and off. I looked over to the front desk and eyed the man behind it. It took me a few seconds to gather my nerves before I was able to walk over to him. It wasn't that I was having second thoughts about leaving my grandmother's like that; that made me hesitate. It was this guy's smell. Even from across the room I could see the grease soaking into his yellow shirt from the base of his neck. Sadly, it wasn't until I was right in front of him that I realized his shirt was not supposed to be yellow but white.

I struggled to not take any deep breathes as I stood at the counter but you can only hold your breath for so long right? Anyway, it didn't take me long to figure out that standing in front of the desk wasn't going to do much except bother my gag reflex. So I took the wonderful task of making my presences known to the toll before me.

"Excuse me?" I said though I immediately regretted it because all of a sudden the taste of body odor was left on the tip of my tongue. When the guy in front of me didn't respond I let out a heavy sigh. "Excuse me." I stated louder this time hoping that smelly would get the picture that I was talking to him. And yet again he just sat behind the deck reading his…was that a Playboy magazine, I thought to myself. A groan escaped from the back of my throat as I massaged my temples with my free hand. It was another minute or so before I had it with standing at the counter looking like a dumb ass. My nerves were already wearing thin and I didn't need some horny ass dumb fuck making snap. But of course seeing as I was already peeved I allowed myself the indulgence of possibly making the sweat rag in front of my piss himself.

So I slammed my free hand against the desk top and barked out a 'Yeah!' which oddly enough was followed by what I would consider a growl. Following my little outburst, Mr. Lazy Ass literally jumped out of his seat so that he was standing up. I could tell from the way his face was contorted that he was caught completely off guard and at any moment would start spewing out curses. But alas he came to his dimwitted senses well enough to realize that I was standing in front of him with an irritated expression shadowing my face.

You know I half expected the guy to apologize for not realizing that I was standing in the office before and but then again I wasn't surprise when his shocked face turned into a scowl and he started to murmur under his breath which I'm sure reeked just as bad as his body did. It took him a couple seconds to collect himself and when I say collect himself I mean he had to turn around and reposition his little friend. Once he was facing me again I quirked one of my eyebrows giving him a look that scream 'Well a little help please?' The guy moved around his desk and came up to the counter so that he was standing right in front of me. "How can I help you?" He asked me in his raspy and oily sounding voice. You know that kind of voice that makes you want to take a scolding hot shower in which you scrub your skin raw so that you can get that horrible greasy feeling off of you, yeah that kind of voice.

With my eyebrow still lifted to its unnatural spot on my forehead I shifted my weight off of one foot and onto the other and gave him another dirty look. This conveying that I thought he was a dumb ass. "Well, I was hoping I could get a room for the night." I drawled out in a sarcastic tone. I mean really why else would I even be in the office to give me a lap dance? I don't think so!! The man gave me another dirty look before bending over to pulling out a log book. Flipping through the pages he turned to the next empty sheet and pushed the book toward me. "Fill it out and I'll get you a key." Let me tell you if I had thought he had smelled bad before having him within touching range was torture. The smell of burned flesh had nothing on this guy.

Never the less, while my friend Smelly was getting me a room key, I filled out the information needed for my stay. As soon as I was finished writing down my name, address, and telephone number, he came back from what I assumed to be the back room with an old copper key in hand. "Alright girly, I gotz you up in 213 on the second level, you can pay now or later your choice," he grunted while snorting his obviously congested nose. Nodding my head I slid the log book back to him and cautiously took the room key from him. I backed out of the office room with Smelly still watching me and turned to exit the screen door.

Once outside I breathed in the semi fresh air and turned toward the metal stairs that led up to the second level of the 'hotel.' I have to admit if I was worried about contracting some disease from the office before I was more worried about the stairs collapsing from under me. It wasn't until I was half up the steps and I notice just how rusted they really were and just how much they seemed to whine every time I shifted my weight. Talk about nerve racking. With a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I finally got away from the stairs I made my way down the catwalk to my room. It's safe to say that from there I put the key into the lock and unlocked that door; I mean may have been ever so slightly out of my mind but I did retain some of my common sense and knowledge.

After I had opened the door, stepped into the room, closed said door, and made sure it was locked I turned on the desk lamp sitting on the table by the window. The pale yellow light gave the room an eerie glow. It's what I could only imagine to be once pale green walls were a dark brownish green color from the mold that was surely going behind and within the plaster. The carpet was a muddy brown color but from the various rips in the fabric I could conclude that it was once in fact beige. There was a bathroom off to the left with was appeared to be a tub shower and lucky it also looked like there was a window in there to. The bed, once I looked at it, didn't look half bad but that was with the covers still on it and I was positive that I wouldn't be taking them off for the night.

Satisfied with the look of the room for the most part I place my duffel bag at the foot of the bed and sat down. It wasn't until I sat down at that moment that I realized how truly tired and drained I was. Even though I was physically exhausted my mind was taking this time to revel in today's events. Resting my elbows on my thighs I held my head in my hands and tried to fight off the tears that had been just decided to make themselves known. I knew that this was nothing to stress able but still my plan had turned out to be a failure. I wasn't able to tell my grandmother and Gracie about way I came home the way I wanted to and now I would have to tell them straight out before I had the chance to go to the doctor. Taking a deep breath, I bent over and lifted my bag onto my lap. Opening it up I shifted a few things around before I came cross my spear pill bottle. Popping the cap open I shook out two pills and closed it right back up. Once that pills and bag were back on the floor, I just sat and stared at the pills in my hand. Sighing again, I threw my head back and allowed my hand to push the pills into my mouth so that I could swallow them dry. You would think after a year and a half that I would be used to taking pills dry, right? Not so, I still had trouble keeping them from coming up but I just reminded myself that they would make the pain in my chest stop and help me fall asleep. And how right I was for believing that! It only took five minutes before I began to fill the pain killer's affects and all I remember thinking before passing out was the prescription drugs really did the job.

_I can't really recall what I dreamed of that night. But I do know that it involved that smell of burning flesh. I kind of blame it the man at the front desk with his personal lack of hygiene. But then again I had been the one to think that he made burned flesh not seem that bad. If I could I would take that statement back. It's a horrible smell. It's that kind of smell that you wish you could vomit over but is so strong you're stuck gagging instead. During my dream though, I remember here people screaming for help, screaming for someone to save them but then again that could have just been the real world leaking into my subconscious thought._

BANG! CRASH! SHATTER!

I sat up with a start unsure if it had been my mind that had made me hear the sounds of furniture breaking or if it was actually real.

CRACK!

"Shit!" I swore under my breath. It hadn't been my imagination. "Please…God please no. Stop…STOP!! HELP! HEL…" My breath hitched at the sounds of whomever it was pleading for help. I held my breath hoping that I would be able to hear any sound that might indicate where the people might be.

After what felt like an hour and a day I began to here scrapping coming from bellow my room. Whatever deed was being done was taking place right under me. Carefully, I edged myself off of the bed and onto the floor. Once my body was resting against the faded carpet I placed my ear to the floor and strained them to hear anything that might tell me what was going on. Not that I didn't know what was going on. Obviously someone was being hurt right under me but I still felt as though I need to make sure that it wasn't just my imagination played tricks on me. Ever since that explosion I had been know to wake up at night reliving those dark days.

It was silent, I couldn't hear a thing but just as I was about to dismiss the whole thing I heard it. It was horrible and gut retching. It was a sound I knew far too well after the explosion. The sound of someone choking on them own blood, the gurgling grasps for air, the chest rattling coughs as blood pools in the back of the throat and no matter what the person does the more you try to clear your air ways the more blood that pools in. It was a pathetic way to die.

Even though I had for a moment been lost in my own thoughts, I was able to hear the poor person from bellow try to beg for their life. "Please…please stop. I'm sorry I'll never… never do it again. No…n..no! Stop…STO…ACH!!" The blood curtailing scream shook me out of my memories and into action. I had to call the police, that had been my first thought. I need to get help first before trying to help the person myself. Just because I was on leave didn't mean that I would stop protect the people of the United States. Of course just because I was once a part of the force didn't mean that the floors of my hotel room wouldn't creak as I shifted my weight while reaching for my duffel.

The muffled thudding stopped at the squeaking of the floorboards. I held my breath, chanting a steady rhyme of 'Fuck' in my head. There was silence for a few moments before I heard another thud and then another. I released my breath and went back to grabbing my phone. "Shit, I'm getting to old for this." I grumbled. With phone in hand, I sat up with my back resting against the bed and my face toward the door. Whoever was down there knew someone was listening and with the luck that I'd been having so far one wrong move and I might… I didn't want to think about.

I flipped my phone open and dialed 911.

911: "911, what's your emergency?"

-"My name is Sgt. Anya Bronburg and I have reason to believe that someone is being murdered."

911: "What leads you to believe this?"

I groaned thinking that I should have figured this would happen.

- "Maybe because I can hear the poor bastard dying."

911: "Now Ma'am, there's no need to swear. Have you been able to see if the person is alright?"

I slapped my face.

-"Gee lady, I didn't think about that. Thought if I moved they might hear me."

911: "Ma'am, if you're not going to ta…"

I didn't hear the rest of her speech. My attention was now focused on my door. I could see a shadow pacing back and forth from underneath the crack of the door. "Listen, you really, really need to get someon..." I stopped, the handle jiggled, I could hear something scraping in the keyhole. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuckidy, Fuck." I growled, my body automatically went into survival mode. I threw my phone still open under the bed and sprung to my feet. The door jiggled some more.

I had to find a hiding place. My body was in no condition to fight someone. It still ached from earlier which was causing my movements to be sluggish. It was then that I noticed the closet door. Running over I tried to quietly open the door and looked in. 'Cubby hole, cubby hole,' I chanted in my head frantically searching for some kind of hiding spot.

I looked up and noticed that there was an opening in the ceiling tiles. With one more glance back, I threw up my arms, grabbed the shelf and pulled my body up toward the ceiling. The shelf began to bend under my weight, in a matter of seconds it would break. Swinging my legs up, I quickly maneuvered my body through the opening in the ceiling.

It was dusty and dirty there and I had to distribute my weight on the support beams just the right way so that the ceiling wouldn't cave in. I held my breath for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The door handle jiggled one last time before I heard it pop open. Unable to see anything I silently prayed that whoever it was that had broken in wouldn't find me. I could hear my bag being thrown across the room and the mattress being tipped. Feet shuffled to the closet door before the door its self was opened. Then there was nothing. No movement, no sound, it was as if both of us were waiting for the other to make their presences know. The standoff lasted only a few seconds before the closet door closed again and it was another few seconds before I heard the person go into the bathroom. "GAAHH!" My body shook, the vocalization of the man's frustration was filled with rage. His deep voice caused the thin walls to vibrate and shortly after I could hear him tearing the room apart. I could the glass of the mirror shattering, the curtains in both the bathroom and the bedroom beginning ripped, the mattress beginning flipped. And then… complete and udder silence.

**Happy readings,**

**A.  
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	5. NCIS

**Hiya...so this chapter is really short and I'm sorry about that but I've been really busy and haven't had the time to write anything, which really is no excuse but still just throwing that out there. I would really appreciate it if you could review the story for me. I'm open to all feed back, if something is wrong let me know, if a character isn't acting that write way please let me know and I'll try to fix it. Thanks!**

_Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS._

"Hey… Hey Ziva… Ziiiiv"

"What, Tony!?" Ziva David snapped from across the bull pen.

"Where's McGeek?" Special Agent Antony DiNozzo asked his partner while jerking his head over to Timothy McGee's desk. "He's down in the lab helping Abby reconfigure her computer." Ziva replied, returning to what she had been doing before. "Ziva…" "What now, Tony!?!" Ziva slammed her hands down onto her desk and stood from her chair. He had been doing that all day, asking a question, getting an answer, waiting for her to get involved with her paperwork and asking a question again.

"Yeah seen Gibbs?" Tony asked innocently even though his nonverbal communication said otherwise. Ziva's jaw clenched as he batted his eye lashes but kept, what she found to be the equivalent of a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"No, Tony, I have no…" Before Ziva could finish her sentence Gibbs rushed out of the elevator as he normally does just after snapping his cell phone shut. "Grab your gear. We got a body."

Snapped to attention, Tony and Ziva grabbed their things. They both power walked over to the elevator and waited for their supervisor. "What about McGee, boss?" "What about McGee, DiNozzo?" Gibbs countered, entering the elevator just as it opened its doors.

"You coming, DiNozzo?" He asked Tony, who was still standing some ways away. Coming to his senses, Tony rushed into the elevator right before the doors closed on him and gave Gibbs a sheepish smile.

When the team arrived at the scene they were met with a number of local emergency units as well as NCIS's coroner Dr. Mallard or Ducky as they liked to call him and his assistant Jimmy Palmer.

It didn't take long for whom they believed to be the senior officer on the scene to find them. "You must be the Fed's that were being sent over," the officer stated. He was a round man in his last fifties or so. His hair had just enough color in it for someone to be able to tell that he was once a red head. "Yup, that would be us." Tony stated, giving the officer a short nod before turning his attention to the area around him, no doubt looking to see if there was any attractive female working the scene.

The local LEO only glanced at the team in front of him before making his way back over to the room where the murder took place. Following him in silence, they passed an ambulance which seemed to be occupied, something they all deduced from the loud argument that was taking place within it.

"Here you go…" The Leo looked expectantly at Gibbs for a name. "Special Agent Gibbs," he answered in a curt manner. Gibbs was far from worried about giving the LEO in front of him the name of his team; he was more interested in the murder scene that he was being presented with. "Well, Gibbs, the scene's all yours. Oh and when you're done, a couple of my men might have found us a witness." Stepping looker to the group, he spoke quietly, "Personally, I think we got ourselves a suspect." With that the LEO left to go who knows where.

"Huh think this is gonna be an open and shut case, Boss?" DiNozzo asked once the LEO was out of hearing range. "I won't be to certain of that, Tony." Ducky commented before Gibbs could get a word in. "Ducky's right," Ziva spoke up from the bathroom, "Unless our 'witness' is a male, I do not think it shall quite that easy."

"What you got, David?" Walking over to the bathroom, Gibbs stuck his head in to take a look around the bathroom. "A used condom," Ziva stated in a rather matter of fatly tone. "Oh come on, Ziva! It's a motel, of course there are going to be used condoms lying around. I don't this place gets cleaned every day."

"Quit talking and start taking pictures, DiNozzo! I want a through sweep of this room by the time I get back I'm gonna talk to our supposed witness." Gibbs walked out shortly after giving the order but not before giving Tony a smack upside the head for his earlier comment.

"Yesh one person did all of this?" Came a new voice from the door way. "Come now, Mr. Palmer, we do not have all day."

The scene wasn't anything they hadn't seen before but yet it was. The body was laid out by the foot of the bed, its limbs contorted in awkward ways that assured the team that there were numerous broken bones. Of course one was to jump look at the victims right arm and head to see the there were in fact bones because the right ulna was protruding out and there was a definite slip in the skull.

From Ducky's position but the body, he could see the there was a piece of skull missing by the left temple. He also noted that there were a number of lacerations scattered on the body as well as a collection of dark contusions that were para-mortem around the eyes and cheek bones on the face.

Underneath the body was a pool of blood that was slowly drying though it would still bubble up from the carpet when ever pressure was applied to the area. "Mr. Palmer, if you would. I think it is time we take this young maiden home." There was a pause before Ducky looked up to Jimmy, who was staring at the blood spatter on the wall. "Mr. Palmer, if you please!" Ducky sighed exasperatedly. "Oh right, sorry Dr. Mallard, it's just that the blood spatter is in such an usually place for were the body is."

"I would have to agree with Jimmy," spoke up Ziva, "the spatter is on the wall in front of the body and not the back." "Though that is true, Ms. David, if you were to look closely at our young Petty officers hands you would see the she had put up a considerable fight. In which I was only guess at this point, resulted in the damage to her skull. Such a wound the force would have propelled her in some way, causing the blood spatter that you see before you."

"That doesn't explain how her body got to the foot of the bed though, Duck."

"Ah, Jethro, I was just was just getting to that. From what I can tell the assailant would have then grabbed her by the hair and moved her to this present spot. By then she would be unconscious to the beating that resulted in her untimely death. Of course, I won't know the truth COD until I get her back to the lab." Just as Ducky was finishing his explanation, Jimmy was zipping up the body bag. "All set Doc. Mallard." Turning around Ducky gave Jimmy a surprised look having forgotten about telling him to bag the body.

"Duck!" Gibbs called right after Ducky and Jimmy had left the room with the body. "Yes, Jethro?

"TOD" Gibbs stated more than asked. "Oh… oh yes. Time of Death was a little less than five hours ago." Nodding his head in understanding, Gibbs turned back to his work in the room and Ducky left to follow Jimmy back to the truck.

It was then that Tony looked up at his boss and remember where he had been, "Did you get anything out of our witness, boss?" Gibbs frowned and grumbled, "No, they would let me near her yet. They still had her in the ambulance."

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_A.  
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